


magic in our bones, a north star in our souls

by restless5oul



Series: even when we're breaking (i'll be loving you) [5]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Other characters only appear briefly, happy endings, true love prevails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restless5oul/pseuds/restless5oul
Summary: he caught max’s eye one last time and faltered, hesitated, a stuttering word on the tip of his tongue, a smile wavering on his face.





	magic in our bones, a north star in our souls

**Author's Note:**

> almost a year after i started this series i have finally completed it! i'm really happy with the way it turned out. and though it took a while i hope you enjoy it.  
> thank you so so so much to everyone who has read this series from the very start, i appreciate your support so much, and hope this ending satisfies you.
> 
> to those who are unaware, parts 3 and 4 of this series are necessary reading before this part. but i would recommend reading the whole series really.
> 
> title comes from the song 'body' by sleeping at last.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Months had past since Max and Carlos had come to the unspoken agreement that it was impossible for the two of them to be together in their current situation. And so many times over the past months Max had wished they hadn’t. He missed him even when he was around because it just wasn’t the same. Of course they still saw each other, on race weekends and in between, they couldn’t just ignore each other, not that they would want to anyway. Though a few times Max caught himself thinking that would be easier. They managed to maintain some fragile form of friendship, but it was a brittle bond that threatened to snap with each coming day.

 

The newfound awkwardness between the two of them didn’t go unnoticed. Not by those who knew about the two of them, such as his mother and Christian, and not even by those who must have only been grasping at straws. Max had pushed the events of Silverstone so far from his mind that he almost forgot that Dany had been party to some of what had happened. Once when it had been just the two of them, waiting for Daniel and Carlos before they filmed something for one of Red Bull’s sponsors, the Russian had tried to broach the subject. But Max had just deflected, and Daniil had taken the hint not to try talk about it with him again. But it seemed as though those on the outside couldn’t tell there was anything going on between the Dutchman and the Spaniard.

 

Max just figured the press were _still_ too preoccupied with the revelation about his sexuality to dig deeper for something else. Though by this point the majority of the hype, both positive and negative, had died down, a week couldn’t go by without some tabloid in some distant country conjuring up some fictitious story about him. Luckily, the initial response had been overwhelmingly positive, and though there was the inevitable hate spewed his way, most of the time he found it easy not to care. He hadn’t been dropped by any of his sponsors, both the FIA and FOM had issued statements in his favour, and he found himself approached by charities and organisations asking him to work with them. But he didn’t want to be turned into some poster boy, even if the cause was noble. He just didn’t feel like it was his right or his place. All he wanted to do was race. Though he had to admit that when he did speak about it, because he knew there would be questions and he couldn’t hide from them, it felt good and right. It vindicated the decision he had made. Because he had always considered himself an open person, and to be that honest made him feel more at ease. It made all the stupid comments and thinly veiled homophobia that was thrown his way worth it.

 

He didn’t care what other people said or did, as long as it didn’t get in the way of him trying to do his job. He had never cared about things like that. Though there was just one person he couldn’t help but think about again and again, wondering what they thought about what he was doing or saying. And he tried to distract himself so many times, but no one could drive Carlos from his mind, as much as they and Max might have tried.

 

***

As Carlos woke up that morning and pulled the curtain aside to see the torrential downpour outside he was struck by a mixture of disappointment and hopeful anticipation. The contradicting sensation was rather fitting for how most of this year had felt to him. Considering he was still stuck at a midfield team, to be currently sitting in seventh in the championship standings was an achievement he took with pride, even if it was only June. However, off the track, things had been considerably less positive. Ever since January Carlos had been plagued by thoughts of regret, thoughts that tended to hammer at his skull every time he saw Max. Not just because he had lost him, but because he couldn’t shake the sense that he’d lost his chance to follow Max’s lead. Rationally, he knew that wasn’t entirely true, that when he felt ready he could do the same. But these internal battles tended to rage on in his mind almost every other day.

 

And then there was the rain he was watching pour on the other side of the window. He knew there was always the chance of rain in Montreal, but wasn’t it supposed to be summer? And considering he’d managed to qualify a promising sixth after an eventful Saturday, he wasn’t sure this was a race where he was going to welcome rain. Although, it did level the playing field somewhat. So maybe he should be pleased.

 

Pulling himself away from the window, he mindlessly flicked on the television in the hotel room while he searched for his clothes. The news played on in the background as he showered and got ready, he barely paid attention to the usual depressing run of politics and war that seemed inescapable these days, quickly turning off the TV before the sports segment could begin. He knew that the race would no doubt be covered and though Max had not been mentioned, or even briefly shown on screen, Carlos didn’t want to tempt fate. Even the fleeting thought of him had sparked a flash of the longing which had taken up residence in his heart as of late.

 

Carlos spent the ride to the track in silence, his mind mulling over the different strategies and set up changes the team are going to have to think about on account of the rain. And no sooner had he stepped foot on the track, an umbrella helpfully shielding him from the downpour, was he accosted by his race engineer who began talking a million miles an hour. The blessing of his job was that once his mind was on the race at hand, there was laser sharp quality to his focus, and no matter what was going on away from the track, it was easy to forget all that in the moment.

 

It wasn’t until he was lining up for the Canadian national anthem that he felt his focus slip at all. In a hurry to make it to the front of the grid in time, he found a spot in the line, pulled off his hat and only once he looked ahead to the choir performing did he notice who he’d stood beside. Carlos could barely even see Max out of the corner of his eye but he could feel the presence of him, sitting heavy on his heart, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and goosebumps appear on his skin. He knew if he wanted any chance of keeping his head on the task at hand – and navigating a F1 car around a very wet track was no small feat – then glancing to his left was not an option. But it had been longer than he cared to think since he’d been this close to Max, and he had never been any good at controlling himself around him.

 

Surreptitiously chancing a look at the person standing next to him, he found a pair of eyes staring back at him. Their eyes only met for a second, but it was enough for Carlos to drink in the expression on his face; a mixture of anguish and confusion, Max’s lips parted slightly, and his eyes narrowed in deep thought. Carlos quickly looked forwards, but he was already grasped by the sensation of choking, and he could feel the heat rising in his face. After so much time spent trying to be ok with the fact that being with Max was now impossible, the pull he felt towards the man standing next to him was overwhelming.

 

There was a crescendo from the band that was belting forth the Canadian National Anthem and one final note from the choir alerted them to the fact that it was almost time to return to their cars.  Carlos could have forced Max from his mind, and wrenched his focus from his heart to his job. But there was a small reckless part of him that couldn’t. Turning to make his way back down the grid, he caught Max’s eye one last time and faltered, hesitated, a stuttering word on the tip of his tongue, a smile wavering on his face.

 

“Good luck,” he saw the words from the shapes Max’s lips made rather than heard them over the cacophony of noise blaring on around them. A droplet of rain landed on the Dutchman’s face, making its way down his face as the sky tried in earnest to pour again.

 

Walking side by side for a few steps Carlos finally found his voice to reply.

 

“You too. Stay safe out there,” he nodded towards Max and received a swift pat on the arm in response. And he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I’m sorry.”

 

He was almost certain Max hadn’t heard. After that, he had barely anytime to collect his thoughts before he was back in the car and heading out on a very precarious formation lap. The rain had made the track slick and almost impossible to find grip on, and even harder to get the tyres up to temperature. Over the radio his engineer told him the rain wasn’t likely to last much longer, but it was difficult to think beyond the rain covering his visor, and the near impossible visibility thanks to the spray coming from Daniel’s car.

 

Vaguely he remembered what Max had told him when he’d asked him how he’d managed to drive so daringly in Brazil the previous year. That memory was mostly obscured by how it had felt to run his fingers down the length of Max’s spine, and press his lips against the bare skin of his shoulder. But he could remember what he’d said about trusting the car, but above all trusting himself. He couldn’t see Max, though he was only three grid places in front of him, but he knew he would be taking the lines no one else was, testing out the entirety of the track while he had the chance.

 

With this thought in mind, Carlos found himself taking up more of the track and he tried to get his tyres up to temperature, finding the dry patches where some semblance of grip could be found. It set his heart thumping, and adrenaline firing around his brain, driving on the absolute limit. But it worked, he could sense the lines that would give him the most grip, and lined up on the grid with the confidence that he was more than a capable enough driver to give this a real go.

 

The race seemed to go on for an age. He managed to hold his position at the start, and even jumped Daniel out of turn nine. Though he was racing hard, with everything he could throw at the car, he hardly expected to manage to hold the position, but the track was not draining well and everyone seemed to be struggling. There were a couple of times where Carlos was sure he was about to lose the car, but somehow he managed to keep it on the track. That meant he was right where he needed to be when Sebastian made a mistake while trying to overtake the leader Hamilton, clipping the rear of his car, sending him spinning into the wall, puncturing his own tyre in the process.

 

Driving under the safety car, Carlos tried very hard to not to think about the fact that with Hamilton out and Vettel running at the back of the field after having to pit, he was now sitting in third place. There was a long way to go, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, knowing that the elusive first podium was within his grasp and all he had to do was take it.

 

One red flag, another safety car, and several other near misses later, Carlos started the final lap of the race and somehow he had managed to hold his third place position. Though Daniel was quickly closing in on him from behind. He was almost one hundred per cent certain that he didn’t breathe for the remainder of the lap; too wired, too tense, too aware that one mistake would cost him this milestone in his career. When he crossed that finish line the pang of relief in his chest was so sharp, before his whole body was overcome by a feeling of absolute euphoria. He could scarcely hear what his engineer was saying through the radio over the sound of the Toro Rosso garage celebrating in the background, and he tried in earnest to thank the team but the words were so hard to find.

 

“ _¡Hostia!_...” he let out a laugh of disbelief as he pumped his fist into the air, “Thank you guys, thank you so much!”

 

When he arrived at Parc Fermé he could see his team lined up against the barriers, cheering him as he parked his car behind the sign that had a large number ‘3’ emblazoned on it. He could see the Mercedes of Bottas parked in first place, and Max’s car next to it, both of them already celebrating with their teams. Jumping into the arms of his mechanics and engineers he saw his father standing a little way to the right, tears visible in his eyes even from where Carlos was stood, an expression of pure pride on his face. He pulled his helmet off, wanting his father to see his face in this moment, and grinning so wide he though his face would crack as his father pulled him into a bone-crushingly tight hug.

 

There was a tap on his shoulder and one of the stewards motioned for him to head to the cool down room. Still grinning he finally felt like he could catch his breath for the first time all day as he stood getting weighed. But when he turned around, all the air was stolen from his lungs again. Max was stood, a towel in one hand and wearing the widest smile, his face was flushed, covered in sweat, and the hat atop his head sat at a slightly awkward angle, but Carlos didn’t think he’d ever felt more in love. He had always known that even though they had spent months apart, his feelings for Max had not changed, and the swell of emotion he felt in his heart just confirmed that.

 

Laughter filling his lungs, he didn’t even think as he closed the gap between the two of them and felt Max’s arms pulling him into a frenetic embrace, half hugging, half wildly celebrating like the young boys they really were. Carlos went to pull away, but Max kept a firm hand on his back, holding him closer for a moment longer so he could whisper;

 

“It’s okay, I forgive you, I do.”

 

When he released him Carlos did his best not to let the turbulent emotions he was feeling inside show on the outside. He knew that the cameras were right there and the world was watching. Lord knows they would make enough of what they had just done. But oddly enough, Carlos found that he didn’t mind. There was even something exhilarating about the fact that people might be sitting and home and thinking that there was something going on, and they would be right. That, just for a moment, he was an open book, his heart laid bare for the world to see. He was pulled from his reverie as Valtteri placed a hand on his shoulder, congratulating him and offering his hand to shake.

 

The podium celebrations were a whirlwind, and Carlos barely felt like he stopped to take a breath before he was being whisked away to do the media rounds, which somehow seemed to last less time, even though he knew he was facing more questions than he ever had before. When he finally reached the motorhome, he found Dany waiting outside his door.

 

“Congratulations,” he told him, pulling him in for a quick hug, a smile on his face which Carlos appreciated even more so because he knew, had he been in the Russian’s position, then he would have been aware of how easily it could have been his podium.

 

“Thank you Dany,” he said, giving him a genuinely grateful smile. He just nodded, before adding;

 

“You have a visitor by the way,” he gave Carlos a meaningful look, but walked away before he could say anything more.

 

Before he opened the door, he steadied himself for a moment, knowing exactly who was waiting on the other side. Sure enough, when he opened it, he could see the back of Max’s head from where he sat on the small sofa. At the sound of the door opening he jumped up, and for a split second his face was filled with nerves and uncertainty, but he expertly replaced it with a smiling mask, so convincing Carlos might have believed him.

 

“I just…” he started, but never finished the sentence. Whether because he couldn’t say what he wanted to, or whether he didn’t even know what he wanted to say, Carlos couldn’t tell. The two of them hadn’t spoken, properly talked about something that mattered, in months, let alone been alone together. He could sense Max’s fear that he was overstepping too many boundaries, there was a part of him that felt the same.

 

But when he had stood out there on that podium and seen the support Max got, the fact that no one cared about his sexuality as long as he drove well, and how it had felt to stand there beside him, he felt like he could take on the world.

 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Carlos said, placing the trophy he had still been carrying down onto the table beside him.

 

He half expected Max to say something, but he only nodded, watching Carlos so closely as though he thought he might disappear at any moment.

 

“I-I can’t be without you; I don’t want to have to pretend that I’m not in love with you. And if that means telling people, then that’s okay, that’s more than okay. I’m ready now,” he approached Max carefully, his heart thumping, knowing how terrifying this was. Not because he thought Max might tell him that he had moved on, he knew just from his face that wasn’t true. But because this might be one of the biggest things he would ever do in his life.

 

“Seriously?” Max asked, his voice half a laugh of disbelief, half a sob. Carlos wrapped their hands together, clutching them in earnest.

 

“Yes,” he gasped, his own voice choked by emotion.

 

“God I love you,” Max flung his arms around Carlos’ neck, pulling him close, his body shaking, but whether from laughter or crying, Carlos couldn’t even begin to guess, “I love you so much.”

 

He repeated those three words over and over again as he pressed his lips to Carlos’ neck, jaw, cheek, lips, nose, anywhere he could reach. The two of them were so caught up in the moment that it wasn’t until much later that either of them realised that was the first time they had said those words out loud.

 

***

 

The next morning when Carlos looked out of his window, the scene outside couldn’t have looked more different than it had the previous day. The sky was a brilliant blue, interrupted by only the smallest clouds, dotted about infrequently, and the sun shone onto the bed where he lay. What was most different was that he had not woken alone. Shifting to his left he could see Max lying sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in time with his breathing, a soft smile on his face, making Carlos wonder what he was dreaming of.

 

Leaning over he pressed his lips to the tip of his nose, chuckling lightly as he watched Max’s nose crinkle in response, an automatic response. A few moments later his eyes worked their way open.

 

“Well that’s not at all creepy,” he commented, his voice slow and deep with sleep, referring to the close proximity of their faces.

 

“Oh shut up, you love it,” Carlos laughed.

 

“Yeah you’re right, I do,” he conceded, pulling the Spaniard in for a lengthy kiss.

 

His hand flailing, Carlos blindly tried to reach for his phone, breaking the kiss to turn his head to check all the messages he had missed whilst he had slept. Most were from his family, friends and the team, wondering where he had disappeared to after making only the briefest of appearances at the celebrations the previous night.

 

“Anything interesting?” Max asked, pressing his face against Carlos’ neck, lazily pecking at the skin there.

 

“Just people wondering where I was last night.”

 

“Are you going to tell them?” his question was poised very carefully, like he was a little apprehensive about the answer. In all honesty Carlos hadn’t thought very carefully about what he was going to do. But in that perfect moment, on that perfect morning, it seemed clear that all he wanted to do was let people know how happy he was.

 

“I’m going to tell everyone,” he said, opening the camera app just as Max pressed a particularly sloppy kiss to his cheek, eliciting a loud laugh from Carlos at the sensation.

 

The resulting photo was goofy, they both looked half asleep and a bit of a mess, but in every way it was exactly what they were. It was that picture which Carlos posted on Instagram with the accompanying caption:

 

_The only thing better than my first F1 podium is waking up besides this one #relationshipstatusupdate_

 

He tapped ‘share’ and promptly put his phone aside. He would deal with the fallout later. For now, he wanted to stay right where he was.


End file.
